


The Cave-Man

by Soupernabturel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, An immense lack of self care, Caretaker Castiel, College AU, Comfort No Hurt, Dean studying too hard and Castiel reminding him to live, Established Relationship, Fluff, Law student Dean, M/M, Messy Dean, Philosophy, Philosophy student Cas, Student Cas, Student Dean, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:46:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soupernabturel/pseuds/Soupernabturel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thought Cas far too immersed in his subject, but Castiel was not the only one who could get lost in studying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cave-Man

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little AU that I and Angrysouffle like to play about in sometimes, in which Dean is studying law and Castiel is studying philosophy and there is bickering and cuteness and general fluffy shenanigans 
> 
> Also because it is my last week of Uni for the year and I am writing fanfic instead of doing assessments which mean's my priorities are as normal.. so yay!

Dean had a problem with philosophy. Specifically he had a problem with  _Castiel’s_  philosophy courses, which in essence would come in bouts of mental musings, discussion that acted as existential dissection, accompanied by the occasional lecture that more so brought a background to Castiel’s study rather than adding texture to his work.

 

Castiel supposed Dean was jealous in a way, his own degree bearing down on him like the world upon Atlas’ shoulders. No expression, no mystery. Law was oppressive; with its exceedingly high (and irrational) expectations, bludgeoning its students into a convoluted mass of jargon-regurgitating-automatons. (But that was just Castiel’s own opinion…)

 

The law, in the larger scheme of life and the metaphysical, was subjective, based on a morally unsound system of ethics that were even more subjective than the ideas of crime and punishment.

 

Dean often argued that Castiel was far too introspective, analysing the things that didn’t need analysing, not seeing the forest for the trees (which indeed, according to Descartes, still make a sound when having fallen even if no one was around to hear), but Castiel argued that all he saw was trees. Unable to escape the philosophy of his own making.

 

He, like everyone was living in philosophy (though there was plenty out there who argued the fact). Everything people think, feel or do is based on metaphysical, epistemological and axiological assumptions. Most people live their lives unaware of these assumptions, Dean for one, and when confronted with a new query, new questions Castiel liked to think he too, was still so unaware of the vastness of existence. What Dean didn’t get was that, like Castiel, he was a philosopher. People who analyze, classify and synthesizes the assumptions made about the world and the things in it were called philosophers.

 

When Castiel had tried to explain this, Dean had just said he worked too hard, then leant in for a kiss, which in a language of all their own said: ‘shut up’  in the nicest way possible.

 

Dean thought Cas far too immersed in his subject, but Castiel was not the only one who could get lost in their study.

 

When Dean didn’t answer on the fifth ring Cas set his bags by the door and rattled about in his pocket. Pulling out a string of keys on a flimsy Paris keychain (“Gabriel you’ve never even been to France?”) he slid the spare key to the off-campus apartment into the lock and jiggled the door open pushing his way through the entryway.

 

The apartment was dark, all the windows covered by thick blinds. There was no sign of life, which made Castiel feel as though he was taking the first few steps off a space carrier to a new planet.  “Dean?” he called, leaving his groceries in the kitchen, “Dean?”

 

Navigating the small apartment would have been easy, even if it had been Castiel’s first time being here. Since it wasn’t it was even easier to find Dean hauled up in his room, with dirty laundry, abandoned notes and Chinese Take-Out boxes littering the room like Christmas tinsel.

 

A pungent ripe smell wafted from the room, Castiel took an aborted breath before plunging over the threshold.

 

It was obvious from Dean’s slumped posture over his word and the rancid smell that he had not left this room, perhaps even that desk for hours. He did not even look up as Castiel crossed the room, scooting aside far too expensive text-books littered with scribbles, shaking his foot out when he stepped on an errant cold noodle.

 

Still completely unseen, Castiel stood right by Dean’s side before he turned to his boyfriend's bed. He picked up Dean’s phone (out of battery) and looked about to amend that.

 

“Don’t you usually keep your phone charger by the bed?” he asked out loud.

 

Dean jumped in his seat, the textbook he was reading feel to the floor with a crash. “Cas,” he barked, green eyes red rimmed and set with deep bags, “when’d you get here?”

 

“Ten minutes ago-” Castiel answered, flicking the socket switch down by the wall. He found the offending charger, beneath the desk and plugged Dean’s phone in, knowing the device was about to be bombarded with texts and phone calls from himself and various others.

 

Dean had been MIA for most of the week, their friends were starting to worry.

 

He stood up and regarded Dean across the room. “You need to shower.”

 

Dean blinked, the small smile that had been working his lips upward, sagged. “Shit.”

 

Castiel came forward, putting more distance between them than usual (for truly Dean did smell a little less than fresh) and placed a hand on Dean’s cheek feeling the hair there for himself (ticklish). Dean closed his eyes to the touch and hummed a low note, as though it was the first physical interaction he had had in days.

 

“Dean,” Castiel began gently, “when was the last time you ate or even left this room?”

 

“Umm...Wednesday.” said Dean hesitantly. With Castiel’s silence, he opened his eyes peering up at him. “What?”

 

Castiel stared at Dean a moment, his chest tightened a little with worry. “It’s Saturday,” he explained. Dean’s mouth fell agape. “Afternoon.”

  
“What?!” Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, over the rust-red beard he’d obviously forgotten to shave, judging by the shocked look he gave his palm and then the tentative touch he gave his cheeks and chin, feeling the wiry hairs growing there. “ _Fuck_.”

 

“Indeed.” said Castiel. “I’m never one to state the obvious, but you’ve been studying too hard.”

 

An annoyed glint flashed within Dean’s eyes. He pulled away from Castiel, not harshly, but just enough to be able to gesture to the room at large. “If you haven’t noticed my future is kind of dangling before me on a single, incredibly thin thread Cas. I don’t have time to waste this chance I need to ace these exams to get the scholarship for another term. And if you look at some of the guy’s I’m competing with-”

 

Castiel had heard this speech many times and was never usually one to dismiss Dean’s feelings or worries, but in this Dean was just bringing unnecessary anguish on himself, hashing and rehashing impossible odds, running himself haggard because no matter what he never thought himself good enough- despite all proof to the contrary.

 

Dean didn’t even realise Castiel had left the room. It was only when Castiel returned, armed with a large box from  _Freshly Baked_ a bakery near campus, that Dean stalled.

 

Castiel popped the lid and lowered the box for the freckled man’s inspection.

 

“You brought me  _pie_?” Dean said, awed. His voice got a little breathy hitch toward the end, which Castiel only usually associated with far more intimate activities, and not just the appearance of pastry.

 

Castiel shifted. “They only had blueberry...”

 

Dean kissed him with sloppy lips and a bristly face. His breath was even more rancid than his laundry and Castiel pulled back from the kiss with a scrunched nose, but still his heart skipped a beat in his chest.

 

There were few things better than kissing Dean.

 

“ _Mwa_.” Dean smacked his lips together exaggeratedly, pressing another kiss to Castiel’s cheek as he took the box from his hands, drawing back. He was beaming now and looking far less defeated than he had moments before. “Seriously Cas, you are the best boyfriend ever.”

 

Castiel’s nose wrinkled further. “That was-”

 

Dean shifted on his feet, a little sheepish. “Disgusting?” he laughed quietly, and rubbed one hand up the back of his nape, exposing the deep sweat pits in his t-shirt. “I need to get cleaned up don’t I?”

 

“I’m surprised you can read your textbooks through the miasma of all ‘this’.” teased Castiel gently, waving one hand as though waving away smoke.

 

Dean stuck his tongue out at him and handed back the box (with what showed on his face as immense self-control). “Haha wise guy, go read up on an old dead dude.”

 

“I will be, right after I take care of you.”

 

Dean’s smile softened, and he ducked his head, nodding.

 

“It will be waiting for you when you emerge.” Castiel said, stepping away with the pie as Dean sat back down at his desk.

 

“Dean-”

 

“Just this chapter, then shower, brush, floss-” Dean smiled at Castiel over his shoulder, tapping an errant pen against his notebook. “I could rush the last two if you wanted to join me?”

 

Though the offer was tempting, behind Dean’s boyish smirk Castiel could see just how exhausted the other student was. Dean’s health came first, they could spend time together later. “Next time.” Castiel promised him. “I’ll keep the pie warm for you.”

 

“Thanks babe.” Dean said, already turning to his work. “Love you.”

 

Castiel told him he loved him too, then made his way back to the kitchen pie in hand, mentally cataloguing the few areas he could clean up whilst Dean was bathing.

 

If his boyfriend wasn’t in the shower in the next half an hour, Castiel was going to drag him under the spray himself.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [My Tumblr](soupernabturel.tumblr.com)


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